

It is a nice touch, however, to glaze the fruit after baking for that perfect patisserie sheen. Loubet brushes his tart with rosemary-infused butter and sugar before it goes into the oven (“my generation’s contribution” to the family recipe), but again, I don’t think it needs any more in the way of either ingredient, delicious as the rosemary is. Cultural appropriation, perhaps, but with only the very best of intentions. Instead, I decide to take inspiration from that distinctly un-Gallic creation, the bakewell pudding, and use a layer of unsweetened apple puree topped with a fluffy frangipane. I could make an apple frangipane, like Bertinet’s, but this robs the fruit puree of the sharpness, which is one of its principal charms. The Roux tart proves most popular – “this is the only one that really tastes of apples” – but it cannot be denied that almonds and apples were made to be together. Not unpleasant, certainly, but not terribly appley, while Koffmann’s wonderfully sticky confection is apparently more like “those things you get at Halloween: toffee apples”.
Apple tart full#
Bertinet mixes frangipane with creme patissiere and bramley apple puree, Koffmann makes a rich egg custard and the Master Chefs do the same, but then flavour it with white pepper and beat in both a caramel and an apple puree, proving that they do indeed have a full brigade behind them.Īs the instructions are fairly vague, I’m not entirely sure I’ve got the results right, but, after twice as long in the oven as the recipe suggests, I end up with a wobbly, eggy mixture that reminds us slightly of bread-and-butter pudding. Loubet, who credits his recipe to his mother, sandwiches it with a pleasingly boozy frangipane. For Roux, it’s a sharp and very buttery apple puree, made with the same apples as he uses on top. The most interesting variation between recipes occurs between these two layers. Roux’s sturdy, crunchy alternative gets my vote as cook, though I’ll be upping the sugar a little bit, because if you want health food, eat an apple.Īlthough I’m generally a fan of blind baking (insert topical Bake Off joke here), I don’t think this tart needs it: the slightly softer bottom is a nice counterpoint to the biscuity sides. The puff versions are the least popular: deemed to be too dry with this rather dry fruit, while the gloriously buttery, enriched sweet shortcrusts are delicious to eat, but quite difficult to work with. Loubet and Breton baker Richard Bertinet use puff pastry, Koffmann and the Master Chefs rich, sweet pâte sucrée, and Michel Roux calls for something he calls “flan pastry”, which contains slightly less butter than a classic shortcrust, and adds water for a crisper texture. Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book gives an Alsatian recipe with a brioche dough base that sounds intriguing, but sadly lies outside my remit here.

(Rest assured we’ll make up the missing butter elsewhere.) The pastry Elegant is what we’re after here, so slim slices win the day.Ī 1984 compilation of recipes from the Master Chefs of France includes a recipe from the north for a tart a l’coloche which sautes the fruit in butter before adding it to the tart, making it hard to arrange on top (hot!) without adding much to its flavour. This is, of course, utterly delicious, but creates a rather more rustic result: “It looks more like I made that one,” observes my tester. Pierre Koffmann keeps his apples in larger chunks in the recipe for tarte aux pommes et à la crème de lait in his nostalgic book, Memories of Gascony, and then half-cooks them in caramel, somewhat like a tatin. (I also think 2mm slices have a tendency to become leathery: 3-4mm give juicier results.) Most recipes also call for the apples to be peeled, cored and very finely sliced – 2mm is the usual instruction – but, in fact, I rather like the look of the peel on the finished dish, so – although it would horrify any fussy French patissier – I wouldn’t bother with the first step. Look for dryish, intensely flavoured varieties, like the aforementioned cox, or russet, early windsor or laxton’s fortune. There are a few caveats, though: cooking apples won’t work, because you need the fruit to hold its shape when heated, and anything too mild (golden delicious, I’m looking at you) will be similarly underwhelming on a tart. That said, there’s a reason almost all the recipes I try call for “crisp eating” apples, as Julia Child puts it – cox’s orange pippins are the most frequently mentioned, though in France the closely related reinette is the standard choice, and if you find any, snap them up: the golden reinette was apparently very popular here in the 18th and 19th centuries, but is, in my experience, rarely seen today.
